


and when i look at you i just can't keep my hands to myself

by quietuniverse



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck needs a massage, Eddie also needs a massage, Evan Buckley the seductive masseuse, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Massage revelations, Steamy ass massage, i'm sorry this is cracky i couldn't help myself, where is the angst all i see are two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietuniverse/pseuds/quietuniverse
Summary: Buck sees a massage therapist for the first time, and it changes his entire life.Or, the one where Buck starts taking massage classes and unintentionally seduces Eddie Diaz in the process.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 401





	and when i look at you i just can't keep my hands to myself

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I let myself run wild with a really terrible joke of an idea. Oop. This is ridiculous. I apologize in advance.
> 
> Also please take any fictional context about firefighters, massages, and massage classes mentioned below with a grain of salt. I literally have no idea what I'm talking about. I just needed a segue into these two disaster boys making out.

It all starts when Buck gets stuck midway through climbing down the ladder back to the truck, back pinched so badly he thinks he’s going to pass out. Hen and Chim are looking him over, checking him for any injuries he may have sustained inside of the building, when Hen gives him a look.  
  
“Buck, buddy, your entire back is literally one big knot. It’s a wonder you can even move. When’s the last time you went for a massage?”  
  
Buck tilts his head head in confusion, looking at Hen like she’s got three heads, and says slowly, “Uhh...never?”  
  
Hen and Chimney both exchange a glance, and go on to explain how both of them (and many other firefighters, for that matter) go every couple of weeks. With all of the high stress situations, heavy lifting, tight squeezes, and overall beatings that they put their bodies through on the job, it’s good to do a little bit of self care.  
  
“Especially if your poor body is on the verge of folding like a deck of cards up on the ladder, Buckaroo,” Hen chides.  
  
Buck furrows his brow, contemplating.  
  
....  
  
Buck shows up for his next shift two days later happy as a clam, perkier than ever. He takes the steps leading upstairs two at a time, and hip checks Eddie playfully as he passes him. He dances around the kitchen island, swaying his hips suggestively as he reaches into the bowl of spinach Bobby is currently preparing and grabs a piece, dramatically dipping it into his mouth.  
  
Bobby rolls his eyes and Hen looks over at Buck and remarks, “Seriously?

Chimney is sitting on one of the couches with his arms crossed, shaking his head and laughing. 

Hen continues, “Boy, if I would have known how much pep that was gonna put in your step I would have told you to go sooner.”  
  
Eddie is looking back and forth between them, confused. “Am I missing something?”  
  
Chimney turns to him, “Buck here went and got himself a _massage_.”  
  
Eddie’s brows quirk at the way Chimney emphasizes the word massage, and he glances over to see Buck dancing around the couch now. He frowns, pointing a finger at Hen and Chimney as he whispers in an accusing tone, “I’m sorry, are you telling me that you sent Buck to go and get his di-”  
  
“WHOA, whoa Eddie, cool your jets, tiger. Not **that** kind of massage.”  
  
Eddie jabs a thumb in Buck’s direction and snaps, “Are you sure?” as Buck is currently air humping the arm of one of the couches.  
  
Chimney has to stifle a laugh, then looks back up at the ceiling dreamily. “I remember my first massage…”

Eddie crosses his arms and retorts, “This still sounds really dirty. You’re not helping.”  
  
Buck swiftly slides onto the couch, beside where Eddie is standing, and joins in on the conversation. “Dirty? What? This place was SPOTLESS guys, clean as a whistle. It was fantastic. I was in heaven.”  
  
Hen doubles over laughing when she sees the affronted look on Eddie’s face, and she has to take a moment to catch her breath before she can say, “Buck, can you please tell Eddie that you did **not** get fondled by your massage therapist.”  
  
Buck places a hand over his heart, looking scandalized, as he admonishes, “EDMUNDO, where did you get that dirty mind of yours? I’m offended you think I would do such a thing. Now if I wanted to get my dick su-”  
  
“And that’s enough of that.” Bobby interrupts, loudly placing lunch on the table.  
  
...

A couple of weeks later, Hen and Eddie arrive at the station and climb the stairs to find Buck sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by an intimidating pile of paperwork.  
  
Hen glances over at Eddie, who looks just as confused as she is, and says, “Buck, honey. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you concentrate on a piece of paper so hard in your life.”  
  
Buck looks up at both of them and a grin spreads across his face, “I’m taking massage therapy classes!”  
  
“I’m sorry, you’re what now?” Eddie doesn’t bother trying to hide the shock on his face.  
  
Buck casually carries on, as if what he’s doing is not at all surprising in any way, “Well, I got to talking with my massage therapist at my last appointment. I was telling her, in a NON CREEPY WAY GUYS I SEE THE WAY YOU’RE LOOKING AT ME, that her WIFE is very lucky to be married to an RMT. One thing led to another and I found out that there are casual classes that you can take if you’re interested in learning about giving massages, but aren’t actually looking to pursue a certification in it or anything.”  
  
Chimney pipes up from where he’s currently posted up on the couch, “Ya know, like when people go through a mid-life crisis and spend $5000 on fancy italian cooking classes for literally no reason.”  
  
Buck throws a balled up piece of paper at him. “I have a REASON, thank you. When I started thinking about how happy and relaxed the massages make me feel, I realized that would probably be a pretty cool quality to have as a partner. You know, being able to give them a real good massage when they get home after a long day at work.”  
  
Eddie narrows his eyes, ignoring the feeling that’s begun to curl in his gut. “Do you have a secret girlfriend, Buck?”  
  
Buck chuckles and looks at Eddie like he has five heads. “I don’t have a secret _anyone_ , Eddie. I just figured it couldn’t hurt to prepare now. Also I’m very bored and lonely in my apartment since all of you are so busy with your lives and children and significant others on my days off, thank you very much.”  
  
Eddie is on the verge of exasperatedly asking Buck what love life of his that he thinks he’s referring to, when the alarm goes off. 

....  
  
A month has passed, and the 118 is out on a very difficult call. It’s a 30-car pileup, with a busload of tourists to boot, and backup is delayed thanks to the wonderful blessing of L.A. rush hour traffic. To top it all off, it’s Buck’s day off, so Eddie runs himself ragged working tirelessly to pull as many people from the disabled vehicles as he possibly can. 

When all is said and done, for the most part, Bobby takes one look at Eddie and sends him home early. He, to quote Bobby, looks like one stiff wind will blow him over. Eddie doesn’t bother arguing, because he’s too drained to deny that he’s dead on his feet, and so he drags himself to his truck. He dials Abuela to let her know that he can come pick Christopher up, he doesn’t need to spend the night there anymore, but she’s quick to pick up on the exhaustion lingering in each of his words. She insists on keeping Christopher anyway, and so he doesn’t bother arguing.  
  
Eddie sends Buck a quick text as he’s walking in the door one he gets home, seeing if he wants to come by for pizza and a movie. He can’t promise he won’t fall asleep, but he also wants to prove a point to Buck that **he’s** not too busy for him on Buck’s day’s off. 

Figuring Buck would be a while yet, he eyes his bathtub and decides that a quick hot bath might be in order to help soothe some of the aches shooting down his spine. And yet, not but seven minutes after lowering himself into the steamy, bubbly water, he hears the telltale sound of Buck’s Jeep pulling into his driveway, followed by the click of the lock as the other man lets himself in with his spare key.  
  
“Eddie?” Buck calls out from the kitchen.  
  
Scrambling, Eddie tries to quickly get out of the tub, but manages to pinch a nerve in the process and yelps in pain as he tumbles. He hears the echoing sound of footsteps as Buck runs down the hallway, and Eddie is certainly a sight for sore eyes when the halfway ajar bathroom door is slowly pushed open.  
  
He’s lying on the floor, soaking wet, bath foam perched on top of his head, with only a small, fuzzy hand towel to protect the last bits of his dignity. Buck turns red, looking off at something nonexistent in the distance, as he says, “You...good?”  
  
Eddie groans slightly and responds,“Yeah, uh, I’m good. Just pinched something in my back getting out of the tub...wasn’t expecting you so fast…”  
  
Eyes lighting up at the mention of a pinched back, Buck declares, “Oh, oh I can help with that!” and he turns back to Eddie and is about to reach down to help him up, before he remembers that his best friend is still very naked.  
  
Eddie attempts to widen the coverage area of the meager towel, to no avail. “No, no, nope. I’m fine, really. It’s all good. The bath _really_ helped. I just...uh. I need to…”  
  
Buck stares at him expectantly.  
  
“Clothes, Buck. I need to go put clothes on.”  
  
Buck’s cheeks flush, and he begins stumbling backwards out of the room. “Oh uh, right. Yeah. Yep. I’ll uh...go order the pizza and pick a movie!”  
  
…  
  
They’re ten minutes into The Empire Strikes Back when Eddie reaches forward to grab some popcorn and gasps in pain. Buck’s hands are on him immediately as he says in a concerned voice, “Where does it hurt?”  
  
Eddie groans, glaring at him, “Everywhere.”  
  
Buck nods and says in a serious tone, “Okay, this isn’t really an ideal spot. But I’m going to need you to roll over.”  
  
“What?” Eddie sputters out.  
  
Buck leaves no room for argument as his next words come out as more of a command rather than a suggestion, “I said roll over, Eddie.”  
  
Eddie feels something hot rushing inside of him in response to Buck’s tone, but he quickly shakes it off. _This isn’t the time. Nope. Not at all._ “Buck, you are not giving me a massage.”  
  
“Yes I am.”  
  
“Over my dead body.”  
  
Buck chuckles, “I wasn’t really planning on committing murder tonight, but if that’s what it’s going to take to get you to stop being a stubborn asshole, so be it.”

Eddie begins to sit up, readying himself with another excuse, but he groans as the pain returns, and Buck gives him a smug smile. “Roll.”  
  
Eddie rolls, alright. He rolls his eyes, giving his friend the finger as Buck stands up from the couch and waits patiently as he stretches out on his stomach. Once he’s in position, without warning, he feels Buck’s weight settle on top of him. And he’s straddling his hips. Eddie’s throat goes dry. “Uhhh...Buck...”  
  
“Do you want me to help you or not?”  
  
Eddie shoves his face into the couch pillow, gritting his teeth. He’s not above asking for help, not at all. Especially when he can barely move. No, the problem is _who’s_ giving the help. All 6’2” of Evan Buckley, who is currently resting on his ass, removing his shirt. _Wait, removing his shirt?_  
  
“BUCK,” Eddie chokes out.  
  
Buck sighs, “Eddie, can you please just let me do this? Trust me.”  
  
“Dios ayúdame.” _God help me._  
  
After rubbing his hands together for a few moments to warm them up, Buck begins to massage him. Eddie’s body goes into sensory overload as he simultaneously feels like melting into the couch and catching fire, because fuck it feels good. Very good. And though he initially bites down on his hand to keep quiet, Buck scolds him for being so stiff and tense. So he relaxes, and the involuntary moan that escapes his mouth shortly after is downright sinful.  
  
Buck chuckles and before Eddie can say anything, he quips, “Moaning is more common than you think. Happens all the time, apparently!”

Eddie groans, because Buck _definitely_ wouldn’t sound so chipper if he knew how hard his dick was right now.  
  
Buck takes his time with Eddie’s back, he takes care to give each aching muscle the attention it needs. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but at this point Eddie is so blissed out he decides he’s no longer responsible for any of the indecent noises that are coming out of his mouth. Though he does have to occasionally dig his nails into the couch cushion to refrain from flipping Buck over and pinning him down on the couch and showing him exactly what the massage was doing to him. 

All pretences of Eddie’s self control are lit on fire like a ceremonial dumpster fire when Buck’s hands finally reach his lower back. He literally bucks in response (non-ironically). Buck stifles a laugh and explains that the lower back can be a particularly sensitive area for some people while Eddie is rolling his eyes into the pillow and has a few choice words in Spanish on the tip of his tongue. The words die in his throat, though, because Buck chooses that moment to do something with his hands that he can’t even _describe_ and Eddie just fucking sees stars. He’s done, he’s gone. And he can’t help it, he rolls his hips. 

Buck stills for a fraction of a second, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He continues giving attention to the area in question, though, and Eddie swears he feels Buck's fingers gently ghost underneath the waistband of his boxers to skim even lower down his back; Eddie shivers. Buck moves his attention to Eddie’s sides, slowly, and then he feels the weight on top him tip forward, and shudders at the sensation of a featherlight kiss being pressed directly in the center of his shoulder blades. 

Eddie’s voice is raw as he drags his name across his tongue, “Buck.”  
  
He feels Buck’s lips ghost across his skin as he responds in a firm but shaky tone, “Tell me to stop, Eddie.”  
  
Eddie turns his head to the side, so he can see Buck in his peripheral vision. But he says nothing.  
  
Buck waits a beat and then sighs, starting to pull back to get off of him, but Eddie quickly pushes up into Buck’s hips where he’s still straddling him. And Buck fucking moans.  
  
He doesn’t have time to get any other words out of his mouth after that, because their positions are quickly flipped as Eddie pins him down face up on the couch, arms held above his head. Eddie is breathing hard as the words tumble from his mouth, “I don’t want to stop.”  
  
Buck surges upward, and their lips messily crash together. The kiss is hungry and starved. It’s wet and sloppy as Buck runs his hands through Eddie’s hair—it’s long again, thank god—and tugs on it slightly. A moan escapes Eddie’s mouth and Buck swallows it as his hands slide down to the other man’s hips. Eddie takes Buck’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it and biting down, before pulling back slightly for air. Buck’s pupils are blown wide, lips swollen, as he stares at him in wonder with heat simmering in his eyes. He gasps as Eddie kisses and sucks his way across his jaw, down his neck, settling on on his collarbone to leave a mark.  
  
And without warning, they’re both startled by the sound of the doorbell.  
  
Eddie drops his head against Buck’s chest and groans, “You ordered pizza.”  
  
Buck laughs, “Well, we needed to eat.”  
  
Eddie looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows, “There’s something else I’d rather be eating right now.”  
  
Buck chokes, taking a second to regain his composure before responding, “Hey now, **you** were the one getting the massage. So I think you’re the one that’s going to get his dick sucked,” and winks.  
  
Eddie’s face lights up as he points a finger at Buck, “AHA! I KNEW IT!”  
  
Buck, who was now standing up and had begun to make a hopeless attempt at adjusting his pants (to try and hide his rock hard boner for the sanity of the poor pizza delivery person), looks scandalized. “What? Ugh. NO EDDIE. I’m not taking dirty massage classes!”  
  
When he returns to the living room with the box of pizza a moment later, Eddie is looking at him expectantly as he matter-of-factly states, “You came over here with your massagey hands and seduced me me with your dirty massage, Evan Buckley.”  
  
Buck huffs, “It was NOT dirty! It’s normal to feel a bit a bit of pleasure from the sensations, but I didn’t offer because I was expecting my straight male best friend to grind back up on my dick in response.”  
  
Mid-pizza bite, Eddie looks over at him and casually says, “Kind of hard not to question your sexuality after being best friends with YOU.”  
  
Buck looks at him curiously, “Wait, so you’ve never…”  
  
Eddie shrugs, “Nope.”  
  
“So um... is this like, weird for you?”  
  
“It’s a lot less weird than I thought it was going to be.”  
  
Buck raises an eyebrow, “You’ve thought about it.”  
  
Eddie looks at him, “More often than I’m willing to admit.”  
  
Buck grins, then his expression turns serious as he asks, “So are you okay with this?”  
  
Eddie takes another bite of the slice in his hand, then after thinking for a moment he turns to Buck and simply responds, “I would prefer less clothes next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and edible arrangements are all highly appreciated.


End file.
